


He'll Want To Hyphenate

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Language, F/M, M/M, Mpreg, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-25
Updated: 2009-04-25
Packaged: 2018-09-30 22:43:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10174085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: The musings of a married man that knows he not only married the wrong person but that the person is the wrong sex.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

**None of the characters are mine. They come from the wonderful mind of JKR and I am only borrowing them to suite my needs.**

 

 

Is it wrong that when I lay in bed at night I want to cringe at the thought of fucking with my wife? Don’t answer that. It was a stupid question and I already know the answer. That doesn’t stop it from happening though. 

I should feel blessed that she provided me with two beautiful children – whom I adore more than anyone in the world. That doesn’t stop me from wanting to have children with the person that I love. Wishing and wanting to look at my children and know that they came from the womb of the one person that means the world to me. 

Yes. I know, that’s fucked up but when has anything in my life not been fucked up!

Sometimes I wonder if she knows. I wonder what she thinks about all my late night outs. Where I really am and who I’m really with. She has to know that there is not that much mead and Firewhiskey this side of the Channel. I wonder what she thinks on those nights that I never come home. Does she really believe that I was so drunk that it was easier for me to crash at a friend’s house?

But then again, she is always waiting, always there. She still seems happier every time she sees me, when I feel myself sinking into a depression more and more each day. 

I want to blame it all on her. Take all my anger out on her, letting her know how I feel about being trapped in this dead in situation. 

Sometimes, I think that it was a trap. That, that one night, that one night of drunken passion that we shared that created my first born was a trap. How could she not have known that I was in a relationship or at least speculated?

I can’t count the number of times that I showed up at The Pub, for our weekly gatherings with our friends from school with love bites and hickeys that I made no conscious effort to hide. 

How could she not know, when they all made comments about it. Asked who the person was that I was seeing and I gave them all vague answers and danced around the name.

See, I want to place all the blame on her, blame the last five miserable years of my life on her and take none of the responsibility. Though, that has never been me. Just like we all knew that when she got pregnant, I would do that right thing. I would marry her. 

Having a bastard-child is not really looked highly upon. 

That never stopped me from seeking what I needed, what I wanted from elsewhere. I’m quite sure that no one would think that I would have affairs outside of my marriage. Not that I really respect my marriage and that is the worst part.

I should feel bad about that. I don’t. I feel worse that I’m causing so much pain to my lover. That I have to deal with the tears and the heartache of the one that I love and know that I am the cause.

I have never stopped seeing my lover. Never stopped the kisses, the touches, caresses or the love making. I find it hilarious – in a twisted, I’m off my rocker kind of way – that I consider what I do with my wife as fucking and an obligation and what I do with the person whom I’m having an affair with as making love and a pleasure every time I am granted entrance. 

I have a bag packed and a letter written. I have all the house elves on stand-by. They know that if Master leaves to pack up all of his personal belongings and send them to my other house. 

The house where my lover lives, waiting for me. The house where we have proud pictures displayed of how our love has grown and changed over the last eight years.

I want to vomit at the thought of leaving my children, who are four and a half and one. But even that doesn’t stop the desire… no, it’s a need to be with him. Yes. It’s a him. It has always been him, ever since we were eleven. But I know that she will never be able to keep me away from them. They are mine. Like he is mine and I am nothing if not possessive.

I look over at her again and I wonder what she would think of if she knew that when I pushed in and out of her at night – which is only once a week, if that often – that I think of him. That it’s his body that I see when I close my eyes. That I found is the only way that I am able to hold an erection with her. 

She is beautiful in an aesthetic kind of way, as if she were a painting. She does nothing for me physically and emotionally she is only the mother of my children. If I had to consciously think of her when we fucked I would surely lose my erection.

I pretend her moans are his. I pretend her hands are his. Even though they are too small and not soft enough and the grip on my shoulders is not strong enough. I pretend her body if his. Though, she has too many curves and is too soft, where I need and require hardness and the small, willowy shape that she had before she carried my two children is not gone. Their bodies are nothing alike. I still pretend.

 

The worst part about it is that he comes here. That he sits in our house. That he has been here for dinner with our children. She talks and laughs with him, asking him about his boyfriends. She knows he’s gay and figures that he poses no threat. If only she knew. 

He is the ultimate threat. Well… not really. He already has what she wants from me. I am his.

 

There was one time that I clearly remember. It was only last Saturday; the children were at their grandparents’ house. It was only us three. He told her that his date flaked out at the last minute, due to a business dinner that could not wait but he really wanted to come and have dinner with us. She asked him about his latest conquest and he told her, in explicit detail. 

_“It was just this afternoon, during his lunch break. Or what should have been his lunch break; he really was not eating food if you catch my drift.”_

She laughed. It amused her to no end how vulgar he could be when he was describing our sex to her. It only made me hard and I think he felt vindicated that he could get over on her like that.

_“He came to my office and did things with his tongue in my arse that makes me tingle just thinking about it.”_

She shoots a quick look over at me. I pretend not to notice it. Even after all this time together I still refuse to go down on her. My tongue is only for him like that, it is one of our stipulations.

_“Then he clears off my desk with a swipe of his arm, like none of my papers or possessions are as important as what he wants to do to me.”_

And they weren’t. Nothing is as important as he is, other than my children and he understood that. That was another of our stipulations. Nothing and no one came before my children.

_“…and he was pounding my into the desk so hard, I can still feel his dick thrusting inside of me. I think he left an imprint of it up there. All the while, whispering to me how much he loves me, how much he cares and that there is no one in the world that means more to him than I do.”_

I know that he is enjoying this. Telling her how much I love him. I never tell her that. I think that the only times that I have told her that were when she was actually in labour with my children. She says it all the time.

I can see that shadow of wanting passing over her face and a small part of me feels sorry for her. This cannot go on much longer. I never meant to cause that much pain in her. I never meant to cause her pain at all.

_“He has the stamina of a God, I always finish before he does and I love the way he is so forceful and commanding with me. Grabbing me by my hair and pulling me to my knees, thrusting his thick, long cock into my mouth until he spills his seed inside my mouth. It’s quite like nectar to me. I hate to lose the taste of it when I eat or drink something afterwards.”_

I know he tells no lies. He has been telling me that for the last eight years. 

When he is done going over our most recent lovemaking, he immediately asks when dinner will be done. He only does that so she can leave the room and he can find out how hard I am for him. And I let him. My body is his to roam and touch whenever he wants to. I am more than surprised that we have never been caught because I have never stopped him. 

He whispered to me that he had an appointment with a Healer at St. Mungo’s on Tuesday and that I was to meet him at home when I was finished at work. 

Before I can question him about what is wrong, he tells me that we will talk when I get home. Then he moves away from my body. I could still feel the echo of his touches all night.

I make a point to make plans alone with him over dinner for tomorrow. How ironic is it that I basically tell my lover that I we will be having wild passionate sex all day while I am sitting at the table with my wife. 

It’s Monday night and I fear the worst. Not for my family that I spend my day-to-day life with but for the love of my life. I cannot help but think that he has contacted so illness that cannot be cured or that he was hit with a slow-acting curse that we knew nothing about. My mind is going crazy dreaming up the most horrendous situations. 

 

It felt like it took forever for my workday to end. But it finally did. I make my way home. To the home that I should be living at on a daily basis. If home is where the heart is, why am I not where I belong? I ask myself that question everyday and every day I get the same answers. 

My children. 

He must have felt me passing the wards on the house because when I enter the house he is jumping into my arms. That must be a good thing. Whatever he found out at the Healer’s could not have been bad. He does not do well with stress and bad news. 

There are not many people that know about my second house. And many would be surprised that my best friends know and have know since the beginning.

Some would say that that is worse than what I am doing to my wife because of who my wife is. But to them I am family and I have been family to them for the last eighteen years. We all have secrets that no one else knows. I keep there’s and they keep mine.

_“Baby, I can see that I was worried for nothing. Can you tell me what happened at the Healer’s today?”_

We are walking though the house, him still in my arms. My family house. The one where I was born and lived for the first fifteen months of my life. In Godric’s Hollow. I had it rebuilt, so the he could furnish it. I would only live here with the love of my life. 

My wife lives in the house that my godfather left me. I let her refurnish that one also, but that never washed away the bad memories or the shadows that haunted me there. 

I felt it fitting that I live there with her. 

 

He’s looking sheepish again, like he always does when he has a good secret.

_“I went to the Healer’s because I had been feeling sick for the last three weeks, remember. Not being able to keep anything down without an anti-nausea potion, you know. Well, I got tired of that and other than that there was nothing wrong with me, so I decided that I needed to see a Healer. And do you know what I found out?”_

I shake my head. 

I love it when his eyes light up like that. He shows so much emotion when it is only us two. Or when he is in the company of those he trusts implicitly. There are not many that fall into that category.

_“Baby, I’m pregnant. Two months along from what the Healer says >”_

I stare at him in shock. We have talked about starting a family of our own for so long. He was afraid of bearing children, worried about his figure. He must have missed a potion somewhere along the way.

For the longest I say nothing and when I do I call for my house elf from Grimmauld Place. I tell him to get the letter that is in the top drawer of my desk in the study and give it to Ginny and to bring my things here. And to tell the other elves not to let her destroy any of my things.

His eyes are shining with tears, he knows what that means. That I am home to stay. That we are going to be able to build a family together the way that we have always wanted. It may be later than we would have liked but it’s better than never.

 

She will be upset I know she will. The letter tells everything. That I have never loved her, that I have been in a relationship with the man that I love for the last eight years and that there was never a day when I was truly her husband in anything but name. 

I know she will take it hard, she has loved me for so long but it was never what I needed nor wanted. It had conditions. Many will condemn me but I did the honourable thing and I married the woman that I got pregnant because of a drunken mistake. I could have told her that I did not want her or the baby. 

 

But now, now I have all that I need. I always have. He has always been there and once all this is settled, I will do the right thing. Not the honourable thing. I will do what I should have done seven years ago, when I realised that he was my soul mate. 

Married the man I love. But this time I will and this time the right person will carry the name Potter.

Draco Malfoy or soon-to-be Draco Malfoy-Potter.

He’ll want to hyphenate.


End file.
